


forgive me, lover, for i have sinned

by zjofierose



Series: (every now and then) on my mind - Angstober 2019 [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Memories, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27486001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: "i love you"
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: (every now and then) on my mind - Angstober 2019 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998550
Kudos: 16





	forgive me, lover, for i have sinned

**Author's Note:**

> just a baby ficlet for a prompt from a 2019 Angstober list. originally posted as part of a multi-chapter ficlets collection; re-posting as a stand-alone.

He gets the first poster when he’s nine - it’s a Christmas gift from Yuu-chan, just a fold-out picture of Viktor in his performance at Junior Worlds from a skating magazine, but Yuu-chan has gotten it laminated and presents it to him with a ribbon and a smile. 

Yuuri loves it. He puts it on his closet door so that it’s the first thing he sees when he puts on his glasses in the morning, and the last thing he sees before he turns out the light at night. 

The next two come from his family, one from Mari-neechan and one from his parents: his enthusiasm for Viktor is beginning to veer on obsessive territory, but everyone’s very indulgent of it. It’s normal to have heroes, it’s normal to have icons, especially at his age. Minako has posters of famous dancers all over her studio, and Mari’s room might as well be wallpapered in her posters of boy bands. So what if Yuuri knows what Viktor’s favorite food is? So what if he spends all his allowance on magazines with Viktor’s pictures or Viktor’s interviews in them? He’s a skater, too - it’s only to be expected that Yuuri would want to emulate the best.

The fourth poster is the first one that isn’t of Viktor skating. It’s a posed photo, Viktor, now aged sixteen and taking the world by storm, sitting on a stool and leaning forward, mouth slightly opened like he’s about to ask a question. His long silver hair is flowing down around his face, and he’s wearing a suit, his tie loose and hanging between his knees, shirt collar unbuttoned. 

Yuuri puts it on his wall and stares at it for a long time. It feels strangely intimate, like he’s seeing Viktor as an individual for the first time, off the ice and not in costume. 

Viktor’s feet are bare, Yuuri notices eventually, pale toes curled around the rungs of the stool. They’ve been cleaned up with photo editing, but Yuuri’s trained eyes can see the shape of calluses, the faint shadows where the bruises would lie. 

“I hope that you wrap your feet after every practice,” Yuuri tells him, and immediately feels silly. Viktor’s a professional; he knows how to take care of his feet. A single one of his toes is probably worth more than the whole onsen at this point. Still, Yuuri thinks, and reaches out to carefully touch the curve of that delicate bare arch. He pulls his hand back and sighs, looks up at Viktor’s face. “I hope you’re eating well,” he says, and then crawls into bed.

By the time he goes to train in the US, his room is plastered with posters just as thoroughly as Mari’s. He stares at them as he packs, shoving clothes and training gear and school supplies into his suitcase. He could take them, but he worries they wouldn’t travel well, and besides - who knows what his new roommates will be like? His relationship with the Viktor on his walls feels private, not like something he wants to display to strangers.

“Good night,” he tells them that night before bed, “I’m going to America. I’m going to become as good a skater as I can, so that I can compete on the same ice as you someday.”

Viktor stares silently back, his blue eyes wide and disarming, his smile soft and encouraging, with just a hint of challenge caught in the corner.

Yuuri exhales raggedly, forcing down the nerves that buzz underneath his skin. He squeezes his eyes shut, letting colors burst behind his eyelids in the dark of his skull. When he opens them again, Viktor is still there - still smiling gently in Yuuri’s direction. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispers, and then, because he’s trying to practice his English, he bites his lip and whispers, “Viktor. I love you.” 


End file.
